Drunk
by Skysha-Tranqui
Summary: Sequel to 'Intoxicated'. Slash. Yaoi. Sixth and final ficlet in my Psychic!Xander series. Xander's plan is put into action, we discover who the culprit is, and Spike tries to come to terms with his skirtwearing urges. Please read and let me know what you


Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, or any of its character's, and I don't claim to, so don't sue me!

Pairing: S/X

Plot: It's the final ficlet in the series – you know what that means…Everyone finally finds out what the hell has been going on, and Spike and Xander figure things out!

Sixth and final ficlet in my series of ficlets, based around Psychic!Xander.

Again, please let me know what you think, and enjoy!

Also just thought I'd set the timing – although I'm not sure on the sequence of events in the programme, so this is a hodgepodge of them…

1) Spike's been chipped, tried to live on his own, and has done the bit with Giles.

2) Xander has his carpenter job, isn't with Anya, never was with Anya, and moved out of his Basement without ever having roomed with Spike.

3) Joyce is dead; Buffy, Willow and Tara live at the Summers' house and take care of Dawn – nothing from Glory yet, nor do they have the money problems they did in the series.

4) Angel, Drusilla and Oz left the same way they did in the series.

Umm…if you spot any other inconsistencies let me know and I'll add them to this list.

Drunk

The Bronze had seen a lot of things in its time. It had been witness to the hormone-driven antics of the younger residents of Sunnydale, to say nothing of the various fashions which had come and gone. The club had also been privy to a lot of supernatural activity over the years, what with the demons masquerading as humans, and the fights between vampires and the Slayer, which used to happen with an alarming regularity.

From all of this experience the owners and employees of the club had developed some good instincts…and the ability to tell when trouble was brewing.

It was with a familiar sense of dread creeping up his spine that the bartender set about readying the club for opening that night, wiping down tables and checking the stock of drinks behind the bar. Each employee took more care with their greetings to each other than they usually did, and sent mysterious sympathetic looks towards the newest recruits.

One such recruit, picking up on the tension, dropped a bottle of ketchup – the ensuing spillage looking so much like blood that it caused the others to shudder and avert their gaze.

But that was only at the Bronze.

Across town, at the Magic Box magic shop, there was also an air of tension – but this wasn't the result of finely tuned instincts. This was the result of a certain revelation they had been given earlier in the afternoon, which they were still trying to come to terms with as they armed themselves with stakes, knives and spells. Instead of the usual air of anticipation they generated before a fight, they appeared almost absent-minded as they followed Giles' instructions without question.

Giving a little sigh, the Watcher worried over his flock, both those present and those just out of sight. The blond witch in bed with a severe cold, the irate Slayer who hadn't stopped breaking things in her anger yet, the red-haired witch who had become suspiciously silent…and the boy he'd felt to be the sturdiest of them all, who, it turned out, had more problems than he'd ever let on.

Rubbing his aching forehead, Giles refused to let out another sigh, instead he put his glasses back on and swiftly stepped in to relieve Willow of the crossbow she'd automatically grabbed. Far too obvious a weapon for their purposes.

Still, he decided as he gave the sharp dagger in his hand a quick polish, at least Tara's illness had given them a way to keep Dawn out of all of this – granted, he had felt marginally guilty about leaving the sick girl at the mercy of the hyperactive and pouting teen…

Perched atop a nearby roof, Hilary ran a hand through his blonde curls, a cute frown marring his face. As the door across the street opened and his current 'couple' exited together, the Cupid Fairy let out a huff of frustration.

Now, normally, a Cupid Fairy, having shot the possible couple with the truth-telling arrow (not it's real name, but the one we'll use for the purpose of this explanation) has nothing more to do with the pair. Secure in the knowledge of their own magic, they feel no need to trail after the pair, making sure they do actually get together.

It was the glint of this pair's true aura's which had made Hilary pause for thought, as he was munching his way through the magic shop's supply of sunflower seeds.

The aura of true love appeared to a Cupid Fairy as a purpley colour – blue-purple meant it was especially strong…a faint lilac meant it was hardly worth the effort of an arrow. This pair had been one of the strongest Hilary had ever seen, but underneath he'd been able to see their individual aura's still – a bit odd, but it meant nothing more than that they were very different people.

In this case, even a different race.

The dark-haired one had a golden aura – a sign that he was blessed by the Greek goddess Atropos, and gifted with her Sight.

That on its own was interesting enough, but the blonde-haired one had a blood-red aura – not a sign that he was a vampire, that part was obvious to the Cupid Fairy from the beginning, but rather an indication that he was Outside Of It All.

Hilary found he couldn't really read the blonde-haired one's aura – nothing beyond the fact that the vampire wasn't linked to anything. No ties to the events around him, no 'destined' links to the people he was with…nothing.

And yet he'd managed to form a love-bond with the Son of Atropos; one who sees it all and yet can never intervene.

Obviously, such a match isn't your everyday event, and while personally Hilary was interested in seeing how their gifts affected their pairing – there was also the fact that he'd used two of his precious green-feathered arrows on the men, and the Hilary refused to let his magic go to waste!

All of which led to the poor Cupid Fairy perched on the roof across from where the brown-haired one lived, freezing his cute lil' tush off in it's pristine diaper, as he waited for the two would-be lovers to appear.

And now, as he observed the pair's behaviour he was disgruntled to notice no obvious development in the relationship between the two. Oh, the lustful looks were as plentiful as before, and the blue-purple haze was darker than ever – but the two were making extra sure no accidental touching occurred. Any other couple Hilary had brought together had already been shagging like bunnies by this point!

…Hmm…maybe the pair's uniqueness meant the arrows were less effective?

"Damnit! I refuse to let them go to waste – I'll just have to help the magic along manually!"

Still swearing under his breath, Hilary got up from his crouched position, brushed off his diaper and jumped off the roof. Wings flapped hard as he hurried to catch up with the pair, who had already started walking down the street. No handholding even!

Valiantly ignoring the buzzing sound which had been irritating his ears since he and Xander had left the house, Spike slowly bent down over the cue stick.

They were winning the game by two balls so far – not unexpected for Spike, but Xander was reveling in every ball they sunk, and the vampire couldn't find it in him to take that away from him. Meaning that for every ball Xander missed, Spike put one in.

Not the best mind-set to play a game in, and Spike wasn't really concentrating that much on what he was doing, but then again they weren't there to play an ordinary game of pool…although if you looked at Xander's face as he lined his cue up, face tense in concentration as he slowly bent further and further over the table, raising his butt…well, he seemed to be taking it seriously in any case.

Vigorously shaking his head, Spike quickly turned his own attention back to what he was doing, just in time to correct the position of his cue before he accidentally sent the ball to the black.

The click-clack of ball on ball was almost completely drowned out by Xander's yell of victory, but Spike was too busy questioning himself to share in his Xanpet's enjoyment.

What the hell was he doing here? Playing the bloody victim, the sacrificial lamb – the fucking _bait!_

Still…flicking a glance in Xander's direction, Spike took in the way the boy's eyes were narrowed and his body held taunt as he aimed his stick of wood. He looked…relaxed.

For the first time in ages there were no bags under the Whelp's eyes, no tired cast to his face, no weariness in his demeanor. Xander was firmly fixed in the here and now, likely relieved he was finally able to do something with the visions his ancestry had thrust upon him.

And if for that to happen, Spike had to be the skirt-wearer, and the sodding piece of sacrificial meat…well, he was okay with that.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, several things happened at once.

Xander dropped the cue whilst yelling "_NOW!_", a red blur darted in front of Spike, and there was a rush of movement as the Scoobies all popped out from their various hiding places.

Finding himself cradled in someone's lap, Spike slowly looked up and into the caring brown eyes of his Xander.

About a foot away from where they both lay, an average-looking woman was thrashing wildly from underneath the heel of a very ticked off Slayer. An equally pissed off Watcher and a scarily-stoic Witch also stood guard, small and concealable, but undeniably sharp weapons in their hands.

"What the…!"

"Spike, do you recognise this woman at all?" Redirecting his gaze to Xander, Spike gave him an annoyed look.

"How do I know? She's not exactly face-up, now is she?"

A startled "Oh," and the woman was unceremoniously flipped over. Average brown hair straggled across an average-if-angry face, and fell into blue eyes which were so unremarkable as to look brown in the dim light.

The only thing about her which stood out at all were her clothes – bright red top, with an equally bright red cardigan over the top.

And yet Spike did vaguely recognise her now.

It took a moment to click, but once it did he almost yelped in startled realisation.

"Hey, you're the girl from that time…!"

As the vampire tailed off into silence, Xander blinked. "…Spike? What time? You _do_ recognise her?" He peered down in concern at the normally-verbose vampire. Blue eyes half-closed in what could only be described as a wince, nose crinkling as he made a moue of distaste.

"…Spike?"

"I, um…tried to eat her."

When no one commented, Spike slowly looked up again – a blank expression was on his boy's face, and from the tense cast to Xander's shoulders, he guessed he was a bit angry at that revelation.

"Only the once you understand – and I didn't even want to really, I was just testing if the chip was working or not! And…obviously, it was, given she's still here – and trying to kill me apparently…what's up with that by the way?"

Turning his head abruptly, no longer willing to play the placating princess, Spike viciously glared at the woman lying on the floor, "I'm a vampire – I'm _meant_ to attack humans, there's no need to take it personally. In fact, you should be _grateful_ that I didn't eat you, it's not exactly the natural conclusion to an attack from a vampire you know? But nooo, what do you do? You take it into your head to track me down and get revenge – turning over a guy's crypt, siccing a bunch of humans on him, and then sending bloody assassins and poisoned blood after him! You've got a bit of bloodthirstiness yourself, haven't you?"

His eyes briefly flashed to gold, as he finally had something to take his frustration out on, and he let his mouth rant as it pleased. In the midst of which he heard a rather familiar '_mip_' and a strange sensation…originating from his upper arm this time, last time it had been his butt. Pushing aside the small irritant, Spike turned back to the woman who by all rights should be cowering on the floor before him – not glaring at him while a petite Slayer stood on her back!

Observing the man still on his lap in no small amusement, Xander wondered how Spike thought he looked. Perched on Xander's thighs, held upright by Xander's arms, and he was holding his head high like some kind of King _coughQueencough_ as he tried to verbally rip a shred out of a woman who was obviously unimpressed. It was so…

"…cute."

Everyone turned and stared at Xander, and for a moment even the woman on the floor stopped her wiggling and looked at him. It was only as he played back the last two minutes in his head that Xander realised he'd actually said that part out loud.

Spike was tense in his hold, and it was with a feeling of dread that he looked to see how he was reacting.

Only to be greeted by a radiant smile, and the feel of soft lips on his own.

"'Bout time you let me know how you felt, luv – I've been wanting to do that for weeks now."

Deciding he liked Spike taking the initiative, but he wished the vampire would stop talking, Xander yanked the blonde's head back to his, not noticing the green-feathered stick pointing up from his own leg.

"Just because I'm on your lap doesn't mean it'll be like that tonight as well, y'hear me? I am not the girl in this relationship, Xander Harris, and you'd best remember that fact!"

_You didn't see that coming, now did you?_

Even the little voice in his head was bearable for once. Probably because it wasn't nagging him to jump the blonde vampire he was currently all over.

"Right, yes, well…erm…" Finding himself staring at the couple on the floor, Giles feigned a brisk cough and re-directed his attention to the matter at hand. Ignoring where Spike's hand had just crept.

"Okay, we need to figure out who this young woman is – outside of someone Spike's attacked – and then decide on how to deal with her."

"Her name's Mary."

Willow spoke up abruptly, out-of-focus eyes fixed on the silent figure.

"And how do you know this? Have you seen her somewhere before?"

"Oh, no…" Blinking, Willow glanced round at them all, eyes skipping over Buffy and Giles and landing on the two men. "Oh, boy!"

"Willow!"

Gentling his voice, Giles took the witch's arm and turned her away from the sight. "Willow, how did you figure that out?"

"…her mind. I just took a tiny peak though! I didn't go rummaging around or anything…"

"Hmm…that might be the solution we need – do you think you perform a memory charm on her?"

"Uh huh, easy as pie – not that I've tried it before or anything!"

A glance in her overly earnest eyes and Giles decided he didn't want to know if she was lying or not. If she was lying then that showed she at least understood the concept to be wrong, and that was enough for the moment.

"If we removed her memory, from the time Spike tried to attack her, to this moment, then we can let her go, knowing she won't try to kill him again, and without doing any harm to the human."

The rustling of cloth brought Giles' attention to the rest of the nightclub – the two figures engaging in a heavy petting session on the floor, and the employees and party-goers who were spectating.

"I think a smaller memory charm may also come in handy for this situation."

"With this magnitude of people I'll need apparatus – herbs, incense, etc…"

"Willow, I was referring to my memory – the people of Sunnydale have managed to suppress a great deal more than this, and, unfortunately, I've never even tried to suppress the…horrors, I've been exposed to. Normally I wouldn't even suggest a charm myself, but I do want to be able to look Xander in the face again at some point in the future."


End file.
